


Learning to Fly

by wrenseroticlibrary_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Airplane Sex, Angst, Awkward Sexual Situations, Consensual Sex, Consent Issues, Escapism, Fear of Flying, Grinding, Hand Jobs, Heteronormativity, Intimacy, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Miscommunication, Porn, Semi-Public Sex, fear kink, straight to gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:49:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23303428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrenseroticlibrary_archivist/pseuds/wrenseroticlibrary_archivist
Summary: Castiel helps Dean get over his fear of flying.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Comments: 1
Kudos: 65





	Learning to Fly

**Author's Note:**

> Wren's tags: supernatural, dean winchester, castiel, destiel, gay.
> 
> Wren's warnings: No warnings, just romantic gay sex.
> 
> Archivist's warnings: Consent issues, resulting from miscommunication and resolved (perhaps somewhat unrealistically) before sex occurs. Graphic descriptions of fear, specifically fear of flying in an airplane. Also a brief mention of alcohol.

_“The aircraft is equipped with six emergency exits, located at the front, center, and back of the plane. Please take a moment to find the emergency exit closest to you, and remember that the nearest one may be behind you.”_

Dean wrenched around in his seat, staring down the aisle. Sam barely tried to muffle his snort, earning an angry glare from his brother.

“Forgive me for wanting to be prepared,” Dean hissed.

Sam gave Dean a tolerant smile. “Dean... for the last time, we’re not going to crash.”

“Oh, sure.” Dean’s grin was anything but relaxed. “Last time was just an unusual situation, right, Sammy? Is that what you were going to say?”

“Well, it was, Dean.”

Dean looked unimpressed, so Sam reached under the seat in front of them with a sigh. “Look,” he began, pulling out a book. “If a demon possesses the copilot again, we’ll just exorcise it like we always do.”

“Oh thanks, Sam, very comforting.” Dean shuffled uncomfortably in his seat, muttering under his breath about flying death machines as the airline assistants finished the safety instructions and the plane taxied to the runway.

Waiting for takeoff turned out to be just slightly less horrifying than takeoff itself. Dean closed his eyes and gripped the armrests and tried to think of blond waitresses as the plane made an awful roaring noise and lurched into the air. When things felt like they were leveling out, he took an ill-advised glance out the window and turned away with an uncomfortable groan.

“Remind me again why we couldn’t just drive?” he ground out.

“Dean, even if we took turns driving and didn’t stop for the night, it would have taken us three days to drive to Seattle, and we don’t _have_ three days. This way it’s only a few hours.”

“Sure, only a few hours.” Dean kept his eyes stubbornly away from the windows after that, staring hard at the seat in front of them and humming to himself.

He made it another fifteen minutes and was almost starting to relax when the plane rocked sharply and he gripped the arm rests with a curse.

Sam didn’t even look up from the book he had his nose buried in. “For god’s sake, Dean, you’re fine.”

“I don’t care how long it takes, we are _walking_ back to the Impala,” Dean stammered out. “No way I’m taking another flight. Several hours of this, holy crap. How long has it been?” Sam gave him a look and Dean tensed. “If you say forty minutes, I swear to god—”

“ _Fifteen_ minutes, Dean.” Sam turned back to his book with a sigh. “You’ve made it fifteen minutes through our flight.”

Dean swore under his breath again and returned to his staring contest with the seat in front of him. Even Castiel’s freaky angel teleportation thing would have been better than this, but this was a strictly no-angel job. They couldn’t risk that kind of attention. There was a quiet _bing_ and the overhead seatbelt sign dimmed, and Dean threw his off like it was about to eat him.

“You know, the plane hasn’t landed yet, Dean,” Sam murmured with a smile.

“Shut up,” Dean grunted, standing up and clinging to the seat for support. “I’m just stretching my legs.”

Trying to walk down the aisle with the knowledge that a few feet of plane was all that separated him from a mile of _nothing_ was god awful, but anything was better than just sitting. Dean wrenched himself from seat to seat, working his way to the back of the plane. When he reached the bathroom he fumbled at the door for a few minutes before figuring out how to open it and stumbled inside.

It wasn’t really much better inside the bathroom, but at least there were no windows and he could lean over the sink and catch his breath and think _really_ hard about blond waitresses. He didn’t think he would ever get used to this. When his heartbeat was starting to feel a little more regular, he let out a deep breath and turned around and almost bumped into Castiel.

“Cas—what—fuck—” Dean staggered back against the sink and grabbed it so he wouldn’t fall down. Castiel gave him a concerned look as he regained his footing and tried to catch his breath again.

“Cas...” Dean panted when he could speak. “What... what the _hell_ are you doing here?”

“You mentioned in the past that you had difficulty with this form of travel. I was concerned.” Castiel’s eyebrows pursed as Dean heaved a deep breath. “...It seems I was right.”

Dean gestured wordlessly for a few moments before finding his voice. “... _This bathroom_ , Cas. How... how did you know I was in here?”

“I asked Sam.”

“...What, just now?”

“Yes.”

“You zapped into my empty seat to ask Sam where I was.” Dean pressed a hand over his mouth and prayed his stomach would calm down. “Cas... what if I’d _still been in that seat_?”

“Are you afraid I would have zapped inside you?”

“Kind of, yeah.” Dean’s voice was significantly higher than it normally should be, _but hell, so was he._

 _“_ Come on, Dean, my aim is better than that. There was an empty seat behind you too.”

“Good god, Cas...” Dean ran a hand over his eyes wearily. The constant humming of the plane was really starting to fray his nerves. Cas was still standing just a foot away from him—looming, really—watching him like he was about to shatter at any moment. “Geez, Cas, can... can you give me some space?”

Castiel glanced around the cramped bathroom. “...Not really.”

“Then can you zap away or something? I just...” Dean’s eyes widened and he grabbed onto the sink as the plane rocked. “I’m fine, goddammit!”

“You’re not fine. And you need to be fine when you reach Seattle.” The plane rocked again and Castiel grabbed Dean’s shoulders before he could stumble. “Relax, Dean.”

The plane lurched like it was about to fall out of the goddamn sky, but Castiel’s hands held him steady. It was the steadiest he’d felt since liftoff, and Dean blew out a quiet breath of relief.

“Any better?”

“Yeah. Maybe.” Dean closed his eyes and tried to pretend there were miles of solid ground beneath his feet. “Everything’s going to be terrible again as soon as you let go, though.”

“Then I won’t let go.”

Dean opened his eyes. “Cas, I can’t just stand here and have you hold me upright for _several hours._ ”

“Why not?”

“For one thing, that’s somewhat pathetic on my part.” Dean gave the room a nervous glance and wondered briefly if it was bugged. “And secondly,” he hissed, “someone else is going to try to use the bathroom at some point. They’re going to wonder what the hell I’m spending so long in here for. They might think I’m, you know...” He gave the room another anxious glance. “...Trying to set up a bomb or something.”

“I see.” Castiel examined Dean’s jacket, lost in thought. “I need to give you some lasting source of relaxation.”

“You could convince the pilot to just drive the plane along the ground,” Dean muttered.

Castiel wasn’t listening. “I can’t get you alcohol or cheeseburgers right now. But there might be one other thing I could do.”

“Wouldn’t be able to keep them down anywa—” Dean was cut off as Castiel leaned in and pressed lips against his ear, mouthing slowly along the rim. “...Cas. Cas what. What are you doing. Cas.”

Castiel pulled back and gave him a confused look. “You mentioned you liked when girls did this, so I thought—”

“ _Girls,_ Cas!” Dean managed to find his voice again, but it was higher pitched than he remembered. He was shaking a bit and his ear felt kind of warm and tingly and it was just now hitting him that _Castiel’s lips had been on it_. “I like it when _girls_ do that!”

“What’s the difference?”

In retrospect, grabbing Castiel’s groin was probably not the clearest message he could have sent, but nothing made sense at the moment so he answered in the first way that came to mind. “ _This_ is the difference, Cas!”

Castiel’s face turned red and his eyes darted around anxiously. “I... did not realize that part would be involved.”

“I mean—it’s not—not with the ear kissing—”

“Then why does it matter? Why can’t I help you relax in this way?”

“Because—” Dean swallowed. “Because, Cas... I like _girls_. I wanna touch girls. _Not_ dudes.”

“You’re touching me.”

Dean’s hand sprang back like Castiel’s groin had burned it. Castiel’s blush hadn’t disappeared and he licked his lips nervously. “I... wouldn’t mind if you wanted to keep touching me. You know. If it helps you relax.”

Dean was feeling a little lightheaded, and he wasn’t sure how much of it was the plane being _terrible_ and how much was the absurdity of the situation. “Cas... I don’t even...”

“Let me try, Dean.” Cas was speaking quickly, as if afraid he had limited time. “I can’t hold you steady the entire ride but I can tell that even what I’m doing now is helping, and I think I can help more if you’ll let me. I mean, you talk a lot about the things you do with girls so how you like to be touched, and I think I know what you’ll like and if it’ll help you relax—”

“Lord, Cas, you’ve really thought about this.”

Castiel frowned. “Are you going to let me help or not?”

 _He’s actually flustered._ Dean took a moment to look Cas over. The plane rocked horribly and there was a crackly overhead voice saying something about turbulence and “please stay in your seat”, and he grabbed onto Castiel and shut his eyes and tried to ignore fucking _everything_.

Castiel’s hand was running up and down his back, and Dean should have been weirded out by the contact but he wasn’t. Castiel felt like a little piece of the earth’s crust brought up for him to stand on, solid and unwavering, as steady as if the plane didn’t even exist. Dean wanted that, he wanted the plane to not exist, wanted to be in whatever calm place Castiel was. So when Castiel’s lips found their way to his neck, pressing cool, gentle kisses against it, he just relaxed into the touches and tried to breathe evenly.

“Cas,” he murmured as the angel’s hands worked down his back, rubbing the tense muscles slowly. “Flying’s better as an angel, right? None of this awful rocking?”

He could feel Castiel’s hair brushing against his jaw as the angel worked across his neck. “Our flight doesn’t have the imperfections of your machinery. It’s a matter of going from one point to another. In a sense we don’t even pass through the space between, not unless we want to. We just... move. And are somewhere else.”

Dean nodded, keeping his eyes closed. “Sounds nice.” His breathing was starting to slow down, becoming deep and steady. He buried his face in Castiel’s neck so all he could smell was Castiel, shutting out the stale air of the plane.

“I’m sure it’s a little different for you when I bring you with me. You’re not used to it, your body tries to fight it. For an angel, flight is as natural as breathing.” Castiel ran a hand over Dean’s chest, drawing in a slow breath and feeling Dean’s chest expand with his. Castiel held the breath for a few seconds before letting it out slowly, and Dean did the same. “Smooth and easy. Calm.”

Dean nodded again, still not opening his eyes. He could feel Castiel’s cheek, pressed against his, feel the angel’s stubble. The sound and sight and vibrations of the plane were all fading to the background, leaving only Castiel. Dean turned his face so he could rest his forehead against the angel’s, breathing softly against his lips, bumping their noses together. Castiel still had one hand on his back, working the tension out of his muscles, the other on his chest to monitor its gentle rise and fall.

“Feeling better?” Castiel asked quietly.

Dean’s eyes were still closed, but he could feel Castiel’s words on his lips. “Yeah. A lot.”

“Can I... I mean...”

“Yes. Whatever you’re about to do, go ahead. I don’t know why the hell it’s working, but it is.”

He could hear Castiel swallow, and then the angel’s hand was running gently down his chest, under his jacket but over his shirt. Dean kept his hands on Castiel’s shoulders, letting that grip hold him steady. When Castiel’s hand reached his navel and hesitated, Dean leaned forward half an inch and brushed his lips lightly over the angel’s.

Castiel’s breath caught. His hand crept down over the front of Dean’s pants, slowly, cautiously, like he still wasn’t quite sure he was allowed. Dean breathed an “it’s okay” into Castiel’s mouth before pressing their lips together again, slow and soft. The touch sent a creeping flow of warmth throughout his whole body, like sunlight on his skin. Dean made a soft humming noise when Castiel’s hand found more confidence and rubbed over his groin slowly, massaging the growing erection there.

“Is this good?” Castiel’s voice sounded apprehensive, breath warm against Dean’s lips. “Am.. am I doing this right?”

Dean nodded, pressing his lips against Castiel’s cheek and then jaw before returning to his lips, each one slow and light and relaxed. “Yeah, you’re doing fine.”

“It’s just—it’s important to me that I get this right—”

“Sh.” Dean took one of his hands off of Castiel’s shoulder to reach between their bodies, taking Castiel’s hand in his own and pressing it against his erection. “You’re good, Cas. This is helping. Hell, it’s helping a lot.”

Castiel nodded and let Dean’s mouth press over his again. He rubbed his hand up and down over the hunter’s groin, encouraged when Dean gave a quiet moan into the kiss. Castiel’s other hand was working the last of the knots out of Dean’s back and shoulders. Dean opened his mouth slightly and Castiel’s tongue flicked in, briefly, cautiously. When Castiel didn’t do it again, Dean let his lips mouth softly at Castiel’s, and finally the angel’s mouth opened to meet his.

Castiel’s hand was working his pants open, and Dean didn’t stop him, his whole body loose and relaxed. The plane was gone, all he felt was Castiel. If he tried, he could imagine he was on solid ground, surrounded by buildings or trees or standing on the side of a long, empty road, laid out for the Impala like a red carpet. He could pretend he was just parked on the roadside, gravel under his feet and open sky overhead, holding Castiel close and kissing him just feet away from his baby. He could almost feel wind on his face.

Castiel made a quiet gasp against Dean’s mouth. It took Dean a moment to realize that the erection he was rubbing wasn’t his own, but even when he realized he didn’t care. Castiel was hard against his hand, and it felt right, felt nice to make _his_ angel make those noises. Dean kept stroking as Castiel finally got his pants open and reached into them, then hesitated, then pulled his hand out, then slid it halfway back in and froze there anxiously until Dean finally whispered, “Cas, go ahead.”

Castiel nodded and slipped his hand in, wrapping it almost reverently around Dean’s shaft. Dean leaned his forehead against Castiel’s and just breathed as the angel’s fingers ran over him slowly, feeling, exploring. Castiel traced over every inch as if he was trying to memorize Dean’s shape before sliding the hunter’s cock out of his pants and brushing slowly up and down the length. Dean smiled when Castiel’s palm rubbed over the head, his eyes still closed. Castiel’s touches were still a little uncertain, his hand a little shaky against Dean’s erection, so Dean urged the angel on with quiet breaths of “that’s it, Cas, you’re doing fine, that feels good, you can keep going, it feels really good, Cas...” until Castiel’s grip tightened slightly and he began stroking Dean rhythmically.

Dean let go of Castiel’s shoulder with his other hand and the angel immediately wrapped an arm around his chest to hold him steady, not leaving him alone in the rocking gravity of the plane for a moment. Dean started undoing Castiel’s belt, lips still playing at the angel’s, eyes still closed and imagining rustling trees and open air. Castiel was breathing a little faster, but Dean’s breaths were still coming deep and easy as he reached into Castiel’s pants and worked out his erection. He gave it a slow stroke, showing the angel how to do it, and grinned against Castiel’s lips when he tried to mimic it.

“That’s better, Cas,” he said softly, kissing along the angel’s jaw. The stubble against his lips was an unfamiliar sensation, but one he found he didn’t mind. “God, that’s really nice...”

Castiel was shaking slightly, but his grip on Dean was as steady as ever, holding him perfectly still.

Dean pulled his hand away from Castiel’s erection and held the angel’s hips, pulling him close. Castiel groaned and wrapped his arms around Dean’s chest, kissing him deeply as Dean’s cock pressed up against his. Dean rocked his hips forward slowly against Castiel’s, letting out a blissful sigh with each thrust. Plain as day he could see grass and pavement and sunlight reflecting off the hood of the Impala, and all he could feel was Castiel pressed up against him, holding him, firm and secure, rocking their hips together and making him feel warm and tingly and alive. Dean pulled away from Castiel’s mouth to gasp, running his hands through the angel’s hair, thick and soft, feeling Castiel’s breath on his lips.

“D-Dean...” Castiel’s voice was shockingly unsteady, considering how still his body was. “I... I think I’m going to...”

“It’s fine, Cas.” Dean kissed his nose. “Go on. Feels nice.”

Castiel hugged Dean against him desperately, crushing their bodies together, panting into his neck. Dean just buried his face in Castiel’s hair and breathed deep and smiled and rocked his hips back and forth a little faster. _Sunshine and grass and wind and pavement, diner food in the backseat, no one around but you and your angel._

Castiel buried his face in Dean’s neck and made a desperate, choked sound, hips jerking forward against Dean’s. Dean could feel something warm and wet slicking his cock, and he breathed soothing words into Castiel’s ear as the angel shuddered against him. When Castiel pulled back and kissed him and pressed a hand between their bodies, rubbing wet and slick over Dean’s cock, Dean groaned and leaned his head into Castiel’s shoulder.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about,” Castiel whispered.

Dean rubbed his hand down Castiel’s back as the angel’s hand stroked. “Being on the road. Somewhere open and empty, big clear sky up above us where it should be.”

Castiel’s voice was hopeful. “Us?”

“Just you and me.” Dean gave Castiel’s lip a gentle nip, panting as Castiel’s hand moved up and down. “Doing this. Out in the middle of nowhere, on solid ground.”

“Is... is that something you’d like to do?”

“Hell.” Dean gave a short, breathless laugh. “Maybe. I dunno.”

“...I’d like to.”

Dean couldn’t think of anything to say to that, so he just pressed his lips against Castiel’s and groaned when Castiel’s hand started moving faster. He bucked his hips forward in slow thrusts, heat spreading up through his stomach and chest.

“Cas...” he panted. “God, Cas, just a little bit faster...”

“Like this?”

“Y-yeah.” Dean clenched his teeth and pulled Castiel hard against him. “Oh god, Cas—”

Castiel claimed his mouth to smother the noise Dean made, which was just as well, because it would have been _loud_. Dean whimpered and groaned into Castiel’s mouth as he came, still holding him close, still not opening his eyes, still feeling that wind and sun on his face and the solid ground beneath his feet.

When Dean caught his breath, he rested his forehead against Castiel’s and opened his eyes very, very slowly. Castiel’s face swam into view, slightly flushed but wearing a smile. Dean returned it and gave Castiel a soft kiss.

“Thanks,” he whispered, pulling back

“You don’t need to thank me.” Castiel licked his lips nervously. “...Do you think you can stand on your own?”

“Hell, let’s try.”

Castiel stepped back, still keeping his hands on Dean’s shoulders. The cramped bathroom, the humming of the plane, the stale air and the rocking, it was all drifting back, but something deep inside Dean remained down there on the open road, calm and steady and untouchable. Dean nodded when Castiel gave him a questioning look, and took a deep breath as the angel let go.

“All good?” Castiel asked apprehensively, looking ready to latch onto Dean again if he so much as stumbled.

Dean exhaled slowly and nodded. “Yeah. God, that’s so much better. Really, Cas, I owe you one.”

“It’s fine, Dean.”

“Really. If you’ve ever got some crippling fear you need help getting over, I am there.”

An anxious smile flickered across Castiel’s face. “No, I... I think I’m good, actually.”

Dean nodded braced himself, and reached for the bathroom door. “I’ll see you when we’re done in Seattle, Cas.”

Castiel’s grin broadened a bit into something that was almost playful. “See you on the flight back.”

There was a flutter and Castiel was gone.

The aisle didn’t seem nearly as difficult to walk down this time. Dean settled back into his seat with a content sigh, fastening his seat belt again.

Sam was staring at him in horror, pulled as far away from him as he could in his seat. “Dude. What. The. Hell.”

Dean stared at him. “What?”

“ _Dude._ ”

“ _What_?”

“Oh a fucking plane, Dean? What the actual hell?”

Dean was starting to flush. “You wanna tell me just what you’re talking about, Sammy?”

Sam clenched his teeth and looked around angrily before hissing, “You were in there for like twenty minutes. With Castiel. And then you walk out all... bright eyed and chipper. You look like you just got a goddamn full body massage.” Sam paused and stared vacantly at the seat in front of him. “Oh god, I didn’t need that image.”

Dean’s blush was darkening. “So I was nervous and I took a while, okay? Cas just checked up on me and—”

“Dude, _you smell like sex_.” Sam shuddered and buried his face back in his book, still pulled as far away from Dean as possible. “God, and I have to _sit_ next to you. For several hours. _God_.”

“Yeah yeah, that’s right, stew in your jealousy.” Dean clasped his arms behind his head and leaned back in the seat.

Sam was grumbling discontentedly into his book, so Dean ignored him. He tilted his head back, closed his eyes, and pictured an open road.

**Author's Note:**

> Archived from https://wrenseroticlibrary.tumblr.com/post/47434721258/learning-to-fly.
> 
> Details of formatting (italics on non-letter characters, length of dashes, treatment of multiple consecutive spaces, direction of angled quotes, etc) may have been changed, and obvious typos may have been corrected. The sequence of words has not been altered.
> 
> This is not my original work; it is Wren's. However, Wren has given permission for anyone to rearchive their works as long as the story and warnings are not modified.


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